The Road to Hell
by ThatClutzsarahh
Summary: The road to hell is paved with good intentions….as is the road to heaven. So which one is Peter Bishop really on? And more importantly, what is hell to begin with?
1. Welcome to Jettinas, population 3,021

The Road To Hell

**All right, so this is my first Fringe fic, and i love love love this show, so as i was watching it, i thought about this plot. Now there of course will eventually be Bolivia in here, so don't worry, the romance is coming, but this is just a start! Enjoy!**

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With his head tucked into his navy scarf, Peter Bishop wanders his way down the cold Boston sidewalk in the middle of the night, nowhere particular on his mind. He keeps his head down as he stares at the cracks on the sidewalk, counting his steps evenly in his mind. It had been nearly a week since the last case, and although the team seemed to be enjoying the time off, there was a terrible wretching in his gut, telling him that there was something terribly wrong with this, that why, all of a sudden the world had gone abnormally silent in ways of mysterious workings? No, no, that didn't sit right in his gut, not one bit.

Plus it probably didn't help that nightmares plagued him. Not just nightmares though, nightmares of things he's never seen before. Things that have never happened here, and yet each time he sees them, in his mind, they feel really and oddly enough, sickeningly comforting. Turning the corner, he saw the green neon sign of the Irish pub and wandered toward it. Although alcohol had not soothed him previous nights, he was hoping, just once, that tonight he would be able to get drunk enough to forget about his plaguing nightmares and the unsettling feeling in his stomach.

But as he reached the doors, the vibration of his cellular phone caused him to pause, curse aloud and answer it with the most cynical tone he could possibly muster.

"Peter's walk of misery, how can I help," he hissed into the receiver. The semi-warm tone of a certain blonde agent came back to him from the other side.

"It's Olivia," she answered, ignoring his tone and remarks, "Where are you."

"4th street," he murmured into the phone.

"Good, I'm on my way."

The phone clicked off and he muttered yet another slew of curse words. Slowly he turned from the pub and headed back down the way he came, cursing mentally the cold air as he watched the black SUV roll up to the curb and pulled aside. The passengers' window rolled down and Olivia smiled from the comfort of her leather seats in her car.

"What are you doing out so late?" she called, a warm smile gracing her eloquent lips.

"Am I allowed to walk at night?" he teased, his dark blue eyes sparkling as only they did when she was around.

"Not this late," she teased, her soft-spoken sound filling the car as he shut the door and climbed in.

"All right, where are we off too?"

"I called Astrid," she answered, turning on her signal to get onto the road, "She found Walter at the lab, again and they're heading off to the location right now and we're going to meet them there. I'm not quite sure what we're dealing with," she answered, "Broyles didn't tell me just what it is."

"Quite all right," Peter answered watching as the rain began to fall as they left the city, "Where are we going again."

"Some small rural town called, Jettinas?" she said, looking at the file laying open next to her. Peter picked it up and thumbed quickly through the photos.

"Population 3,021," he murmured aloud, "Just don't let it be another Edinah."

Olivia laughed aloud but drove on, "No, something about this doesn't seem to be mutant people again."

Peter didn't say anything but kept to his silent brooding as they drove along. It was Olivia who spoke again.

"You never told me why you were out," she said softly.

"Do I need a reason," he questioned, raising an eyebrow at her. She smiled and shook her head.

"What?" he asked, "What's that look for?"

"Nothing, nothing," she murmured. He shook his head.

"Don't think I won't find out," he murmured to her.

"I don't," she answered, "And actually I intend for you to."

They sat in quiet for the remainder of the ride as Olivia pulled off the main road and onto a separate dirt road. She continued down it and as Peter watched the lights of the FBI set-up come into view. Whatever the case was, it seemed to be very large. The lights began to glow brighter and brighter and as they rounded the corner, a large FBI baracade was in the way. Olivia slowed the car to a stop and rolled down the window, showing her idea before driving off again.

This time she pulled to stop near a small silver car and turned off the engine. Climbing out, the chilly air bit Peter and he cursed yet again before looking about for his blonde-haired partner.

"So where are we again?" he asked, looking out at the lights. He couldn't see exactly what it was yet, but he wasn't exactly sure he wanted to know.

"About 51 miles outside of Jettinas," came the voice of Broyles. Peter and Olivia turned about as Broyles stood in his FBI jacket zipped to the top as he gazed over their heads at the lights behind them.

"What are we dealing with?" Olivia asked Broyles as they began the walk to towards the lights.

"10:37 am," he began, "A pair of hikers sank through a large hole in the earth. Sesimic activity recorded a massive quake located right here, about a 10.0 but did not move out at all. No waves. So they called us and when we got here, well this is what we found."

Broyles pointed out to the pit and Peter couldn't help but gape. What in the world was that? There was a hole all right, but what was underneath was anything but earth. From where they were they could see down into the pit. There were large crags of spiked rocks and rivers of lava. Peter looked at it, stunned. But that wasn't all; below there were dead trees, and horribly scarred landscape. It looked much like a place that was broken and hopeless, a place where nothing could grow or be seen.

"What the hell is that place?" Peter muttered aloud.

"Fascinating," came the voice of Walter, "Amazing, it appears as if we're looking into another world."

"No, Walter, this is earth and that is the center."

"Don't be ridiculous," Walter scoffed, "This is clearly a massive hole into another dimension."

"You're the one sounding ridiculous," Peter muttered, looking down. He kicked a rock down at it and watched as it fell, then suddenly disappeared. His eyes widened.

"See," Walter scoffed, "Throw something, like say this-" he pulled his scarf off his neck and tossed it into the hole, watching as it floated down and then just disappeared, "It just vanishes, never touching the bottom."

"Can we talk to the hikers who find it?" Olivia said, looking at Broyles.

"I don't think that would be possible," he said, "Let me show you."

Peter followed Olivia as Broyles led them to a blue tent pitched over near the edge of the pit. Holding back the side, Olivia entered, followed by Peter.

"We found them when we arrived. It's unlike anything we've ever seen."

Pulling back the sheet, Broyles showed them a set of completely mangled bodies. Peter coughed and looked away from the mauled hikers, whose clothing, face and even gender were completely undeterminable by the remains.

"Astounding," muttered Walter, picking up a flap of skin from one, "Truly astounding. These humans seemed to have been clawed apart."

"Clawed?" Olivia questioned, "By what?"

"Oh, something certainly bigger than a bear. Perhaps a raptor, or a mutant high bred-"

"Another?" Peter asked.

"Possibly," Walter answered, "I must run some test to figure out exactly what did this. We must move them back to my lab."

Broyles nodded and exited, followed by Olivia. Peter stayed behind inside, looking at the mangled bodies.

"Do you think what ever could have done that came from the portal thing in the ground?" Peter asked, watching Astrid and his father look over the fleshed people.

"Very possible," Walter concluded, "But if that be the case, then they either have already returned through the hole or are about in our time. If the first, then we must find a way through like they have, but if the latter, then we must wonder what they are and how many came through, and if more are to come through again."

"Lovely," muttered Peter, running a hand into his hair, "Just lovely."

"So," Olivia said, re-entering the tent, "Walter we'll move these back to the lab. Astrid, will you go with him back, Peter and I will stay here to question the sheriff and the people here."

"Excellent," exclaimed Walter, "Come Astrid we have much to do."

And with that Walter and Astrid left the tent, followed by Peter and Olivia as they made their way back to the SUV they came in.

"Hey Liv," Peter asked as they climbed into the vehicle, "Are you a religious person?"

"Not really, no," she answered, starting the car.

"Nevermind then," he said, shaking his head.

"No, go ahead and tell me," she soothed turning onto the road.

"I was just thinking, Walter's been reciting _Dante's Inferno_ as he falls asleep lately, and there was a part that caught my mind. It goes like this; in the middle of the journey of our life, I found myself again in a dark wood, so dark that the straight way was utterly lost. Alas how hard it is to say what it was like, this savage and sharp and strong forest, which even in thought renews my fear! So bitter was it that death is little moreso; but in order to speak of the good that I found there, I'll tell of the other things I saw there."

The car was silent for a few moments, mainly because Olivia had a loss for words of what to say. She had no idea what to make of what he said, and he didn't speak, simply because he hoped she was mulling what he said over.

"So," she began slowly, "You think that maybe those are the gates to hell?"

"Maybe," he answered, "I'm just saying, when I came out here tonight, I don't know what I was going to make of whatever that was, but now I'm thinking that maybe it could be."

"Well hopefully the people of Jettinas will know, or maybe know something about the strange woods."

"Jettinas," Peter said with some alarm, "J-e-t-t-i-n-a-s, Jettinas?"

"Yes," she said with a slight shaky laugh, "I told you this before, weren't you listening?"

"No, not really," he muttered to himself.

"Why? Is thee something wrong Peter?"

"No, no," he muttered, "I just know some people here, that's all."

"Know people?" she questioned, the tone taking on a bit of jealousy. He smiled to himself when he heard that. The very thought that she was jealous of his past relationships made his inside seem just a little bit warmer.

"Not those people, Liv," he said smiling, "I just…know some others."

"All right Peter," she said with a slight laugh. She kept quiet from then and looked at the road.

Oh yes, Peter certainly knew people in Jettinas, and they would not be happy to see him.

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**And va-la there is the first chapter! Please please please review? **

Who is looking for Peter?: **You want to know? I can't tell you now, but in time**

This whole thing about Dante's Inferno? **Okay, it's a little strange, but its' part of an Italian book, and it's simply thrown in there to make a bit of sense.**

What about the Bodies, what tore them apart? **Well, if that's the gate to hell, what do you think came through?**

And how about going in? **Well, just stick around.**

**That would be so great if you would :) Luff for you all. **


	2. God Save Your Soul

**Awesome guys, thank you so much for all the reviews! I'll try to update as soon as i can, but it can be long. But as for this chapter? No waiting involved! Ta-da!**

**And onto the Chapter Two!**

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**God Love your Soul**

Peter did not sleep well that night, but he never intended too. From the moment he hit the covers in his motel room, his eyes remained open. The shadows on the walls changed, but his eyelids never moved, never shut for more than a mere second for blinking because if they did, something would capture his attention, and then he wouldn't be able to look away. He watched as the shadows changed and the light seeped in waking into the morning hours. Finally and begrudgingly, Peter rolled out of bed.

Olivia smiled at him from her spot in the café as he walked in. Cursing yet again how cold it was, his slid in the booth across from her and watched as the waitress poured him a cup of coffee. She was a pretty woman, with short black hair and she smiled at them as they sat there.

"What shall I get you?" she said with a smile. Peter looked ahead at Olivia, afraid that, if she saw him, she could recognize him, or worse, someone else could.

"Cheese omelet," he answered with a frown. Olivia ordered pancakes.

"Did you sleep well?" Olivia asked once the waitress was gone.

"As well as one could," he muttered, taking a long drawn out sip from his steaming mug. It tasted good to his parched throat, and the caffeine woke him slowly.

"What's on the agenda for the day?" Peter asked after he set down the coffee mug. Olivia was looking at her phone.

"Astrids sending over the reports as we speak. We're going to meet with the sheriff, um, Jason Macgroff as soon as we're done here."

"Macgroff?" Peter spluttered. Curse his luck.

"Do you know him?" Olivia asked, her emerald eyes narrowing at him. He blinked and shook his head.

"Yeah, we know each other."

"Do I want to know?" Olivia asked, just as the waitress returned with their food.

"I think maybe it's better if you don't."

"Peter," she said, throwing him a crooked unsteady smile.

"Liv," he said, reassuring her, "I know him because we worked together, all legal I swear."

Her head dipped to the side in only the way Olivia Dunham could, and his eyes sparkled at her. She smiled back, that shaking, I-don't-believe-you smile but returned to her food. And for good reason she shouldn't believe him, if he really told her what had happened between them, well she would probably have drawn her gun at him already and told him to leave. But he didn't want to do that, no, instead she'll just find out when the meet him.

Sheriff Macgroff's station was a little tiny place on the main street with a large cement crack running through the front of it. Peter would know, because he spent what felt like hours staring at the glass panel that was the window and the faded green paint that was written on it. The crack itself should have divided the window in half and at one time it looked like it had, but it was clearly fixed. Olivia had been on the phone for a good half hour now and she joined him, swinging her blonde hair over her shoulder and down her back, stuffing her phone in her pocket.

"All right," she said, looking at the window, "Ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," Peter muttered darkly. Olivia ignored the tone completely and pushed open the door. A red haired assistant greeted them.

"Hi, I'm Special Agent Olivia Dunham, and this is Peter Bishop from the FBI," Olivia said, looking at the small red-haired teen behind the desk. Her bright green eyes scanned her and then Peter.

"How can I help you?" She asked in a bored tone.

"We're here to see Sheriff Macgroff," Olivia said with a smile, "Could you tell me where we could find him?"

"Agent Dunham?" came a voice from behind. Peter gritted his teeth as she turned around.

"Yes," she said, smiling. Peter remained facing the assistant.

"I'm Sheriff Macgroff," he said, reaching his hand out, "Pleasure to meet you."

Slowly and carefully Peter turned around and looked at the young sheriff with black hair and brown eyes. His square jaw was relaxed when he looked at Olivia, but as his eyes connected with Peter's his jaw tightened and eyes flare angrily.

"Peter," he said curtly, "Didn't think I'd be seeing you again."

"The feelings mutual Nick," he countered with the same identical icy tone. Olivia looked at the men for a brief moment.

"Sheriff Macgroff," Olivia said, trying to clear the tension between the men, "I'd like to ask you some questions, if that's all right with you."

"Oh yes, of course," he answered, "Right this way."

Olivia half-smiled and followed him down the hall, Peter on her tail. They entered the interrogation room and Peter took his seat, staring at the cool metallic table as he felt the Sheriff's eyes landing on him. This conversation was already heading south.

"How can I help?" the sheriff asked, sending her a charming smile.

"Sheriff, I was hoping you could tell me a little bit about the woods around here, have there ever been reports of mysterious disappearings?"

"Disappearings miss?" the sheriff scoffed, "Well your out in nature, we get our fair share, but nothing out of the ordinary if that's what your asking."

"I was hoping you could tell me about the hikers we found yesterday, Mr. Kyle Martin and Miss Sherri Longburn?"

"Kyle? Yeah I know him, trouble make he is," the sheriff said, "Caught him multiple times for violating and trespassing."

"Trespassing?"

"Yeah, he was always out at night in the woods on private property, said something about being on the verge of finding the devil or some biblical stuff like that."

"So he wasn't just a hiker?" Olivia asked, writing in her notepad.

"No, but he did like to go for walks."

"And what about Miss Longburn?" Peter piped finally able to find his voice. Nick's warm eyes faded to cold as he looked at him.

"Never heard of her," he answered with ice.

"Well, thank you Sheriff," Olivia said standing, "Thank you for your time."

"Anytime," he answered, standing, "You can call me Nick."

Olivia looked uneasily at Peter and then at the sheriff before smiling, "Nick."

"Agent Dunham. Peter."

"Nick," Peter answered. He held the door open as Olivia walked out and then Peter, but as he left, Nick grasped his arm.

"Don't think he won't find out your back," He whispered harshly

"I didn't," Peter answered with venom, "In fact, I hope he does."

Outside, Olivia was on the phone, talking to Astrid. Tucking his chin in his coat, he glanced down the street. By now, Nick had probably told him, and they'd be looking for him in a few hours.

"Astrid, it turns out that those hikers weren't just hikers," she said, "Sheriff Macgroff said that Kyle was arrested a few times for trespassing. But there was nothing on Sherri. Could you look into it for me? Yeah, that's great. Thanks, how's Walter? Oh really, really? Great. Yeah thanks, I'll tell him, yeah, all right bye."

She clicked the phone off and looked at Peter who was leaning against the wall. There was an amused smile on her lips, one that he knew so well. It was one that she placed on after Walter said something funny.

"All right, what?" he asked, pushing off the wall and following her down the street.

"Walter pulled some material out of one of the hikers," she said, still smiling.

"And?" Peter asked, glancing into the coffee shop as he passed.

"He says it some kind of material he's never seen before. Some kind of skin or piece of claw."

"What was it made of?" Peter asked, looking down the alley as they rounded the corner. The car was in sight.

"He wasn't sure," Olivia said, watching Peter. His behavior seemed odd, but if she said anything she was sure he wouldn't be happy.

"Hmm," Peter said, speeding up.

"He's running more tests and Astrid is looking into the background of the hikers. She said that they were scientists and theological theorists. She's going to see what they studied."

"So," Peter said, looking around again, "What was that look for?"

"What look?" she asked, unlocking the door.

"That one," he answered, his eyes with a twinkle. He stared at her directly in her eyes.

That mere second he looked away from looking around a single shot rang out. The shot missed his head by inches and shattered the glass. Olivia dropped to the ground and he followed, sinking to the cement. Another shot rang out into the air and there was a loud scream from a passerby. Then there was another shot, followed by another and the blood began to fill his ears, adrenaile coursing in his veins. He tried to look around to see who it was, but everything became a blur. He didn't know if Olivia was hurt or fine, or whether she was shooting back, but by the sound of it, she wasn't.

As the next shot filled the air, Peter got a grip on where they were coming from. To his horror, the gunshot came from Olivia's side of the car. That meant she unprotected from the fire. Peter moved on instinct, to protect her with his body, and came around the car. But instead of her being hurt or scared, her gun was up and searching for the shooter. The sound of gunfire stopped.

"Olivia!" he called out between panting breaths, "Olivia!"

"Peter, Peter are you all right?" she said, looking for him.

"I'm fine, Liv, how about you?"

"Yeah, yeah, where are you?"

"Here," he answered, peering out from behind the corner. A single bullet pierced the side of the car, and he didn't know where it came from.

"Olivia, watch out!" he shouted, rolling away from the sound. He knew that the shooter was aiming at him. Olivia searched with her gun, but as silent bullets hit the car, her mind panicked and she began to shake.

"Peter!" she called, her voice on edge, "I can't see him, Peter!"

The terrible sound of her voice screeching out his name would haunt him for the rest of his life, but now he wouldn't know. For now, he was going to play hero, although he was far from it. Rolling from his spot, he took her gun and looked around, scanning the windows. As soon as he held the gun, the firing stopped and did not return.

Olivia was shaking, her hands curled tightly into balls and she sat behind Peter. He turned and saw her frazzled look and dropped down to his knees, taking her in his arms. It was strange with her, how she could withstand traveling dimensions and gruesome monsters, but when she was face with gunfire her mind would freeze back on the time she had shot Charlie. He remembered so clearly her telling him everything, how she felt. He cradled her close to his chest, nuzzling his nose in her hair in a protective manner and she clung to his shirt. He knew she would dream of Charlie tonight, and he wanted so much to push them away. This time, those terrible dreams would be his fault because they were after him. Hadn't she figured it out? If not, she would be dead.

"Olivia, I've got you," he murmured into her hair, "You're all right, it's all right."

"Peter," she mumbled into his skin, vibrating his chest with her voice, "Peter why were they shooting at you?"

Peter froze. She knew, the whole time, they wanted him. They were shooting at him. He pulled away from her and stared into her eyes with disbelief. It was all a trick. Her frazzled state was a trick to get him to come and see her. It was a terrible trick to get the truth! Oh how he wanted to hate her right then, but he couldn't muster himself too. She was smart, so very smart to out smart him.

"Because," he muttered, deciding to tell the truth, "They want me dead."

**

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**Dun, dun,dun. The plot thickens. Tell me what you think!**

Who are those Hikers? Are they really Hikers? **Hmm, that's a good question, are they really who they appear to be? **

What's the deal with Nick and Peter? **Nick and Peter obviously don't like each other. But why? Well stick around!**

Olivia's trick? **What do you think? I think it's very Olivia Dunham, since she does seem to fool people alot. **

Peter's Reaction? **Ahhh yes, sweet sweet romance, buried underneath the harsh exteriors of their jobs.**

**Stay tuned for Chapter three! It'll be an exciting one! Review Review Review :)**


	3. The Road To Hell

**And onto Chapter 3 Everyone!**

**The Road To Hell**

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Olivia had not spoken to him since the shooting. And for good reason too, as he hadn't given her any of the answers she wanted. In fact, he didn't give her any answers at all. But now, after three days of near silence, he could literally feel the cold bitter grasp of guilt grasping his heart and squeezing. Each time he got a glance of her, he would feel it grabbing at his heart tighter, squeezing at him in a mocking manner. His heart was seizing up and his mind was beginning to feel the weight of his conscience hitting him. What made it worse was that since the shooting, the nightmares mysteriously vanished. Although he should be glad, this unsettled him worse than before, and now he dare to attempt to sleep, because the plaguing feeling of complete emptiness would take him over, and he would rather be subjected to nightmares than to this unbearable emptiness.

This unbearable emptiness he brought upon him self, he thought darkly as he dressed. The morning sun was not yet breaking through the sky, but he could see that the day was gloomy. He didn't bother to look in the mirror because he knew what a sight he was. The nightmares had given him a glimpse of his face now, unshaven, gruff and tired. He could barely stand to stare himself in his eyes anymore. He cursed his reflection more than once, and on several occasions, broken the damn mirror at home. He wondered what the hell was wrong with him. He was Peter Bishop, con man extraordniare, he never felt this fear in him, never felt the fear that he did yesterday, or the instinct that took over him. Why had he thought he had to ensure Olivia's safety? Where did the sudden feeling that he needed to make sure she was all right come from? Grumbling to himself, he pulled on a dark jacket and headed out, Olivia invaded his thoughts.

This morning he looked for her in their café, but she was not there. The rain drizzled down into the streets making the mood gloomy and dull, and Peter was feeling the full extent of it. He pulled out a stool and took a seat at the booth, looking down at his folded hands. Maybe she was running late, maybe she had left, or maybe, just maybe she didn't care. An involuntary shudder ran down his spine as the waitress placed a mug of coffee in front of him. Peter grunted unceremonously at the woman before drinking in a sip deeply. It was then, he heard the bell ding and turned around, locking eyes with the blonde that refused to speak with him. She took her seat next to him.

"Coffee, please," she said with a smile. The waitress nodded and headed off to get it. Peter stole a sideways glance at Olivia only to discover a look in her eyes that he hadn't seen before. Was that sadness? Guilt washed over him again.

No words were spoken. He wanted to say something, he really did, but what was there to say to her? He hadn't the slightest clue. He didn't have to wait very long or have much time to think because she looked at him, then away, then back.

"All right," she said with a heavy sigh, turning her back on him. She looked out the window at the street outside with the drizzling rain on it.

"If you're not going to tell me who that was, then I guess I'll just arrest you."

"Why? What for?" he asked shocked she played the I-can-arrest-you card with him.

"For endangering a federal agent," she answered smugly. She whipped around and harshly whispered in his ear, "Listen I know you're in trouble here and I can guarantee its' not going to go away anytime soon, so tell me what happened."

"I owe a guy some money," he answered, not looking at her. He was being completely shallow in his response to her. For some strange reason, he did not want her to know, maybe because he didn't want her in his mess. After all, this was his problem not hers, and he didn't want the FBI sticking their nose in his business anymore than they already did.

"A guy? Money?" she asked, looking at him.

"That's what I said, yes," Peter spoke cynically. Olivia looked at him.

"I need answers Peter," she said, staring him in the eyes, "I was shot at."

"No, they wanted me, they wanted me dead, not you, All right?" he hissed at her, his eyes growing darker, "I owe a guy a lot of money all right?"

"Fine," answered, ending the conversation. The challenge still hung in her eyes and he looked away angrily, angry at himself, before staring into the depths of his coffee. He wanted very much to say something, but he kept his mouth shut, he didn't need to be dragging Olivia into this at all.

"Peter?" she called. He snapped his head up to look at her. She was standing and waiting from him by the door, "We have to go."

Peter staggered to his feet, like he had been drinking- yet he hadn't one sip of alcohol. Olivia held open the door for him and he looked around outside, his suspicions had yet to die down.

"Be careful, Liv," he muttered out of concern. Actually it felt more right to mutter that then anything else. Olivia looked at him before entering the car and driving out to the road. Peter watched her manuver the road the best she could, but his mind kept replaying the car accident, and how it had effected her driving for a while. He was frightened for her and for Walter, but never scared for himself. That was Peter he was the strong, brooding one. A dark chuckle escaped his mouth, but before Olivia could ask what was so amusing, he posed his own question to her.

"So do we have any new information about our freaky hiker friends?" he asked.

"So, Astrid told me that Sherri was actually a sismetologist, that she was working on a project called Hole. Astrid's trying to see what's left on her computer of the project, but someone had trashed her place when we got there. I'm thinking that having them stumble upon this hole couldn't have been an accident."

"You're saying they went looking for it?" Peter said, watching the road in his solemn mood.

"That's what I'm thinking, or maybe they created it."

"It would take a lot of time to create a portal like that, Livia," Peter said in a doubtful tone.

"I know, but Walter had a theory," she spoke, turning down the dirt road.

"Does he?" Peter said with a cynical tone.

"Yes," Olivia answered flatly, again ignoring his cynical words, "He says that he knows of a device that could rip open our time fabric and expose another time fabric."

"Like the one he built?" Peter scoffed.

"Like it," Olivia answered, "But different. It doesn't travel between worlds, it travels between dimensions."

"Imagine that," Peter muttered darkly.

"The only problem with it, is that Walter thinks it might have fallen into the pit when it was opened."

"Well that's a lot of help," he said, climbing out of the now parked car, "How do we get it back?"

"Walter doesn't know."

"Well, here's an idea," Peter said, looking down into the hole, "Has anyone even tried to jump in it?"

"That's insane," Olivia said, shocked, "We don't know where it goes, or what it does, or how to get out."

"Well, the same way those hikers or scientists got out," Peter said, nudging a rock in, "We need to find the machine."

"And what if it doesn't let us out Peter? What if we're trapped?"

"Well, that's a chance we'll have to take," he said, looking into the hole. Olivia shook her head.

"I can't let you do that Peter," she said sternly, "It's too dangerous."

"What about the creatures on the other side, Liv," he argued, "What if they find the device? What happens then? What if they get loose in our world?"

"Peter, I can't," she said with defeat.

"Yes, you can, Olivia, I'll go by myself if you want," he urged, looking around the forest, "Or you can send me down with one of them."

"No, Peter," she argued again, "I won't let you go. I can't."

"It's the only way!" he practically shouted. Olivia shook her head.

"Peter," she said, "Calm down, your not yourself today-"

"That's because you nearly got killed Olivia! And it's all my fault!"

The words blurted from his lips before he could even register their meaning. Her face went from shock to confusion to realization to deep thought as he watched her face. Her emotions, so carefully calculated, flashed quickly through her eyes as she thought of him. He mentally kicked himself for blurting out what he said.

"Look, Livia, I-"

"You what Peter?" she asked dangerously, "You're sorry."

"No, Olivia," he hissed, "I'm not sorry, I wanted to say that that's what's wrong with me, I understand your anger, but we need to get past that. It will all come in time, it will. But right now, we need to focus on getting the object back."

"I still can't let you go through," she whispered calmly, "It's too risky."

"Hey, Babe, we're in the fringe division, everything is risky."

Peter had enough of the waiting. He was frankly sick of it. Olivia had been on the phone for nearly and hour, asking Walter every question she could possibly think of, trying to find every reason not to go in. But when he told exactly what she wanted to hear, her eyes would sparkle with the prospect of adventure, and Peter knew that she secretly wanted to do this, and with more words from Walter in her ears, he saw that it was set in cement, she was determined to go through the hole. Peter smiled to himself just a bit, hoping that for a moment she would forget about what they had fought about. Peter scanned the area, noting the scarcity of the agents, and what few appeared bored to his eye. In his mind, Peter began to plan, a plot that formed in his mind that he would enter without her, she had all ready been in enough danger thanks to him

Her phone clicked off about an hour later, her eyes gleaming with excitement that she quickly concealed from Peter, the all-knowing man standing near her. Peter's attention however, was not focused on her, but rather the supply tent that lay in wait behind her. Finally, once he turned his eyes on her face, she smiled at him and he returned it.

"We'll leave tomorrow morning," she said, her eyes confirming that. Peter, however, unsure if he was even going to live till tomorrow groan and tugged at his hair.

"We can go now," Peter urged, shoving into the tent.

"Peter, what are you doing?" Olivia asked, following him into the FBI pitched tent.

"I'm getting things I'll need," he said, stuffing a bag full of random items.

"You are not going in there," she answered him, trying to stop him.

"No, Olivia, I am, those people are dead, and I want to know why!"

"It's not safe!"

"Babe," he chuckled darkly, stroking her cheek with his hand, "Nothing we do is safe."

"Peter stop!" she shouted, watching in horror as he headed straight for the hole. Peter didn't hear her though, without a second glance between them, Peter stepped over the ledge of the hole, disappearing from Olivia's sight.

"Peter!"

With lightning speed she didn't know she had she ran towards the hole, not thinking twice about what she was about to do. Without a second glance, Olivia went in after him. After all,

The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

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**And this is the orginal scene that played out in my mind when i had begun musing this story. I think it fits well. But please tell me what you think!**

**Reviews are always a welcomed bonus!**


	4. Halliejulah

**_And _Welcome to Chapter 3!**

**So i know, i know, i know this chapter hardly makes any sense, but please forgive me! It's simply an important filler chapter and i promise there will be better ones!**

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There was ground, and there was sky. That's all Peter could decifer in this strange place. The air was thick with the stench of sulfur and the heavy fog of ash. Peter's eyes watered dangerously from the feel of this air against them, and he squeezed them shut just in time as Olivia cam crashing down next to him in the most ungraceful manner she possibly could. Peter caught her in his arms, righting her as she shoved blonde hair from her vision.

"I should shoot you," she mumbled to him, glaring. Peter shrugged. No good in fighting her when they were already stuck in, wherever they were. Scanning the area, Olivia stared at everything. This place looked so- so barren.

"Where are we?" she said in awe, coughing as she inhaled a great deal of the sulfur in the air.

"I have no idea," Peter stated, looking about. The land was bare with sharp jagged rocks, the air painted with orange, red and yellow hues, and the mood dark and oppressing, like nothing living was there. Peter shuddered and involuntarily moved closer to Olivia. No harm was to come to her.

"Peter?" she called, watching him move away just a few minutes later. He stumbled over a large rock and touched it with his hand, recoiling it faster than lightning as it burned his skin. To his horror he watched the skin turn black.

"Livia, don't touch the rocks," he muttered, hiding his hand from her.

"Are you all right?" she called, stumbling up after him. She stopped in her tracks.

Lying about in front of them lay a large lake, but rather than water filling it, bubbling pools of heat and lava filled the vast barren land, heat pooling in the thick air that hung overhead. Olivia coughed and stared at the angry looking pool of goo, unable to comprehend what was happening to her. She swayed in the air but held her ground, looking down into the fire.

"Okay," she stated slowly, "What is this place?"

"I'm pretty sure this is hell," Peter said non-chalantly, caring climbing from the perch. He tucked his burned hand into his side, making sure Olivia didn't see it.

"How are we even supposed to know what we're looking for?" Olivia muttered, following him down from the perch, "And if we find it, how are we suppose to even use it?"

"You know, I never remember you asking so many questions," Peter spoke, weaving between rocks.

"I've never had so many," Olivia muttered unhappily, following him. The first chance she got, she shoved ahead of him and place a hand on his chest to stop him.

"What?" he asked, amusement twinkling in his eye.

"I lead," she spoke, "I do have the gun."

"Do you?" he quipped. Olivia ignored the dirty remark and walked in front of him.

The land was still bare, even as they continued walking, the rocks crumbled beneath their feet, the air became increasingly thick and heavy and the mood began to change slowly. Climbing over a next set of rocks, Peter's hand began to burn as he climbed over another set. Olivia looked down.

"A road?" Peter mumbled, looking down at a flat span of land in front of him. There, at the base of the hill was a flat road. Climbing down the rocks, Olivia slid and landed on her feet, her hand grazing the ground. But she did not recoil in pain her skin did not char like his. Peter followed, puzzled. Olivia looked at him and then at the road.

"Well?" Peter asked, wondering why she just stood there like an idiot.

"This was a terrible idea," she muttered at him, wandering down the road. He merely shrugged.

"Olivia," he called to her. She turned.

"Look, I'm sorry, all right? There's no reason to act like this? I was being foolish, okay?"

"No Peter, it's not okay," she said with a stern glare, "Now we're stuck in god knows where and without a way to get home! Just because you have a past in crime-"

"In case you haven't noticed you're not exactly a clean scrubbed FBI agent!"

"You're a wanted criminal!"

"Your partner was a traitor to the country!"

Olivia recoiled. Her eyes flashed instantly from anger to hurt in an instant as she stared at him. With hurt written all over her face, yet trying to completely be hidden she spun around and kept walking. Peter wanted to slap himself in the head. He pulled out that painful card on her. Now she wouldn't dare speak to him or look at him.

Peter wandered down behind her as she walked, looking ahead. Her long blonde hair swished angrily, matching the feeling of hurt and anger that was rolling off her skin in ways. Peter couldn't believe how stupid he was for saying that to her. Now, he'll never get her to forgive him.

As they wandered on, the air got darker. Peter stared at her back as Olivia walked on and Peter couldn't help but feel a sense of un-ease as it grew darker. The luminescent glow of the lava pool grew brighter as the sky grew darker. Peter began to pull his coat tighter, not because it grew cold, but because the darkness felt odd, like it was creeping into his skin and running into his veins, staining them. Soon, his charred hand blended into the night sky, and he no longer needed to hide it.

"Olivia," Peter called, trying to slow her down, "Olivia, please, slow down."

She kept walking.

"Olivia," he tried again, "Olivia, please."

She ignored him again and, if possible, sped up her pace in walking. Peter sped up, in a hope to catch her.

"Olivia, stop!" he called. Olivia stopped and clenched her fists. Peter sped up and finally whirled her around.

"Look, what do you want me say? Anything I say isn't right."

"Then don't say anything," Olivia answered, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"I-" he faltered. Peter clenched his own fists angrily and flexed them before the sharp shooting pain in his burnt hand caused him to gasp.

"Peter?" Olivia asked, turning to him. Quickly he hid his hand as she turned around, looking at him.

"Peter, someone's coming," she whispered, pushing him. Quickly she shoved him behind a rock, so fast he reached out with his hand to touch the ground again, only to have it burn, this time, searing the skin so it bled just a bit. He gasped again, but Olivia put her fingers against his lips and he remained quiet.

Sure enough, wandering up the path was a lantern, glowing a soft yellow, bobbling along at a slow pace. The person carrying it was still too far off to decipher who or what it was, but Olivia and Peter remained still as the creature approached. As soon as it was nearly there Peter caught a glimpse that stopped his heart.

The person was badly burned; his face and arms covered with the deep charcoal scars that matched the one on his hand, running down his neck and into the brown garb it wore. Its head was misshapen and it appeared one side had been badly bashed in or had been completely removed. Slits for nostrils dominated the nasal area and shifty gold eyes held an expression beyond anything he could comprehend. Peter's breath became shallow and he could hardly tell if Olivia was breathing at all.

He stalled, standing right where they were in the shadows and Peter heard the blood pounding in his ears dangerously. His eyes locked with Olivia's, whose fingers were pressed softly into his cheek. Her eyes begged for his calm and for her own steady breath, which was shaking as she sat. Finally, just when the creature went to move away, it turned and stared directly at the rock.

"You can come out," the voice rang, in a sickly high melodic voice, "I know you're there. I won't hurt you, I promise."

Olivia and Peter remained where they sat, unable to move. The creature spoke again.

"I'm going to help you," the creature said, "I promise."

Again Peter and Olivia remained still.

"You're going to need my help."

Olivia peered out behind the rock to see the creature had a small twisted smile on its' demonic face. Olivia blinked and looked at it again.

"I know that if you two stay out here any longer the sulfur in the air will kill you," it said, holding out a charred hand, "I want to help you find what you're looking for."

"Why?" Olivia questioned, looking at the beast. It cocked its' head sideways.

"The saint and the sinner," it spoke, looking from Olivia to Peter, "Wear different names, play different games, share different fame. One has the vision of goodness the other put a spell of looseness. Saint gives all respect, no reason to condemn while the sinner is just a hero of a dramatic poem. There's no escaping fate, they're meant to meet one day and when they do, I'd dream to see them walking hand in hand."

The creature paused and looked at Olivia with wide, wise eyes before looking back at Peter. Peter, with a clenched jaw peered back at it.

"Come," it said, "There is no reason to fear."

Peter stood up and Olivia tugged at him. The creature looked at him before he began to move towards it.

"Peter," Olivia hissed at him, "What are you doing!"

"It's all right," the creature said, "I'm here to help. Come, we must be getting to the gate."

"Gate?" Peter asked, looking at its' face. Olivia crept up beside him.

"The Gate to the levels of hell, I suppose that' what your looking for," it cocked its' head to the side and watched them.

"It's what they were looking for."

"They?" Olivia asked. The creature nodded, "The living before you, they came to find that."

"And what happened?" Olivia asked.

"Come, I will tell you," It gestured to the road. Olivia walked behind it and Peter behind her.

"Do you know what happened to them?" Olivia asked, looking at the beast.

"I do not know, I led them only to what they wanted."

"And what was that?"

"The gates."

"What?"

"The gates," the creature repeated, "To the levels of hell."

"Dante's hell?" Peter quipped. The creature nodded.

"I myself am the gate watcher," The creature said proudly, "I guide lost souls to the gate and then they wander in."

"Why?"

"Well," the creature said, moving slowly, "They were sent here, so I just send them to where there supposed to go."

"We're looking for a device," Olivia said, "The one those others held."

"Ah, yes," spoke the creature, "I saw it when they came in, they where holding it tightly. I didn't see them come back out so I thought they were still down there, are they not?"

"No."

"Shame that is. As for the device, I can not tell you what has become of it, or who has it," the creature spoke, "But all I know is that you're going to have to go down into the levels of hell to get it back."

"Great," slurred Peter. The creature wheeled around to him, looking at his hand directly.

"I suggest you watch out," it whispered in Peter's ear, "Only people that belong here get burned. The soil has all ready got you."

Peter stared in disbelief at the thing. It had the blatant ability to tell him that he was going to hell. Well he knew it, but it was strange to actually hear it, from someone in hell. With a massive curse word on his lips he bit his tongue and stared angrily down at his hand.

Something inside him changed then. Something changed from his heart to his veins, in through his skin and leaking through his soul and into his mind. He didn't want to be this anymore. He didn't want to be charred anymore. His whole world had been an entire mistake and now, standing in a horrid place, with a horrid being, he wanted nothing more than out, to run from and leave completely. He wanted nothing more than to flee away. The feeling of uneasiness that he escaped so quickly in his mind suddenly settled in his lungs, being felt every time he took a breath, every time he spoke. He could feel the unsettling nightmare in his mind, and he was not happy.

He was going to get himself a resurrection, whether or not he liked it.

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**And go easy on me? Please review! Review review review!!**


	5. Rich in the Valley of Hell

**After a rather long Hiatus, here is Chapter 5! I hope it is good! Enjoy!**

It was dark and damp, but there was an all-consuming heat radiating around them as they entered. With heavy footsteps Peter followed Olivia down a stone staircase, the sound echoing into the dark chambers that surrounded them. Olivia was quiet and the only sound coming from her was her quiet breath that came out in puffs. Her blonde hair created a halo around her head and Peter found himself fighting the urge to run his fingers through it.

"Olivia," he called. There was no answer so he determined she was still angry.

"Olivia, look I'm sorry okay, I really am," he began again. There was no response.

"Liv?"

"What Peter?" she said, wheeling around on him, "You're sorry? For what, what you've said or the fact we're now in Hell, a place I didn't even think existed and there's no way out?"

"Both," he muttered and they began walking again, "Look I just wanted to get out of here-"

"Me too."

"Then let's just concentrate on that okay?" he suggested, reaching out his hand to touch her. She looked at it but nodded.

"Okay." He reached out and stroked her cheek gently, her face relaxing at his touch. She hated how she felt so at ease then, but she was scared and he was there to comfort her. He had no idea though for his mind was far off.

"How deep do you think they went?" Olivia asked, turning back around and continuing down the path. Peter shrugged and followed, careful not to touch anything.

"Depends," he said with a frown, kicking a stone with his foot, "How far would you go in here?"

"I wouldn't," Olivia answered unhappily, "But let's turn that question around on you shall we?"

"Oh and what's that supposed to mean?" Peter snapped before he could control himself. He seemed to be just digging a deeper hole for himself. Better to dig down here he thought sarcastically, because he'd hit rock bottom in no time.

"It means whatever you want it too," Olivia replied smoothly. She had just turned a corner when the ground began to grow lighter in color. Olivia stared ahead as she walked, the ground become softer turning from solid rock to stone, from stone to sand, from sand to dust and from dust to dirt. Just as she came around another corner the dirt turned into grass and she stopped. Peter, who hadn't caught up yet called out to her.

"Livia," he called, "Stop!"

"I already have," she said stooping down to pick up the grass, "Look Peter."

Peter tucked his hands into his peacoat and stared at the grass in her hand. She did not flinch at its' touch it did not burn her. He couldn't touch for it would burn him. Grass. Burning Peter Bishop. So this really was hell. Great.

"It's grass Livia," Peter drawled. Olivia glared.

"Glad to see you aren't blind," she said dropping the grass. Spinning on her heel she headed down the tunnel and down a flight of stairs. Peter followed with a sigh. At the bottom of the stairs Olivia stopped in front of a door. She, on instinct drew her gun.

"Peter open the door," she said nodding her head. Peter gulped.

"No," he said defiantly. Olivia glared. That was one way not to get back on her good side. She pushed the door open herself and went in gun drawn. Peter followed, expecting for flames to engulf them and that would be it. But what he saw was something else entirely.

There were fields of green. Rolling meadows of green grass and a bright sun. The sky was blue and clear, much like the sky up on earth itself. The grass fields where gentle and smooth, rolling for as far as the eye could see. Peter blinked, unable to understand- it looked just like Earth, where were they?

Olivia was unsure too, for she held her gun out, but lowered it to her side. As she walked on, a path appeared in front of them, and as she stepped on it, Peter reached out to pull her back.

"Liv," he warned, "Let me, it could be a trap."

"I can do it," Olivia said with stubbornness. Peter growled and stepped on in front of her. The moment Olivia stepped on behind him, the ground began moving quickly. On instinct Olivia grabbed to keep her balance, clinging to Peter has the scene around her became a blur, the world moving by so quickly that she had to squeeze her eyes shut. Peter bent his knees so he wouldn't fall and held Olivia up. Just as he felt like he could no longer stand, the ground stopped violently and he stumbled forward, pressing his bare palm to a wall only to move it twice as fast. The burn mark was there and visible. Cursing under his breath he stuffed it back into his pocket.

"You alright?" he said, pulling Olivia up into a stand. With a sweeping movement she brushed her hair from her face and nodded. She made to move but stumbled, Peter catching her with ease.

"Here," he said, "I'll help you."

"Where are we?" Olivia mumbled, looking up at the great castle.

It was true, they had moved from rolling fields of green to a large stone castle that loomed over them. It was sitting by itself in a field of green, but leering toward the sky above in a menacing way. Peter shook his head.

"I don't know," he answered, "But here, let's go see if anyone's home."

With slow, careful movements he help Olivia get settled before standing her up straight and leading the way to the iron gate. Peter looked behind it for anyone to open them, but was startled by the voice that called to them.

"Who is here?" a deep voice called. Peter looked up to see a tall African American man on top of the wall, looking down at them. Peter grinned wolfishly.

"I don't suppose F.B.I. open up is going to work here, eh?" he whispered to Olivia. Olivia glared.

"The gate keeper sent us," Olivia said boldly, "It says you have answers for our questions."

"Not me," answered the man, "I am not who you are looking for. Come in."

The man moved from the wall and the gate began to open. Pulling up into the stone, Olivia peered into the place catiously, only to find no one in there. Peter strode in the only the way he could. His hands were burning, one freshly burnt and throbbing. Olivia eyed the place the only way she knew how, looking for danger. She could find it at any turn here though, so it was more likely pointless.

The large African American man met them at the bottom of a flight of stairs and nodded at the pair.

"Ah yes," the man said, "Saint and Sinner, we've been waiting. What took you so long?"

"Um," Olivia said, "I don't know who you think we are, but we are not the 'Saint and Sinner' pair everyone thinks we are. We are just from earth, you know alive."

The great man chuckled, "Of course you aren't. Follow me."

Olivia ran a hand through her hair and sighed. Who did they think they were? Peter, clearly amused by her frustration, followed her and the man to the large doors that he shoved open. It opened to a grand foyer with lavish gifts and sculptures. Peter whistled lowly.

"And they call this place hell," he muttered. The man was next to him in a second.

"It may look like Earth, but tell me, when you die do you expect heaven to look the same as earth? No. You are expecting better. But you're stuck in monotony, stuck in Limbo."

"Limbo?" Peter raised his eyebrows. The man nodded.

"Welcome to Limbo," he said, "We have been waiting. Please, he will not wait much longer."

"He?" Olivia questioned, following the man down the halls. The man nodded before opening the doors to a large hall. It was lavishly decorated with ornate statues and beautiful tapestries. Peter looked at it all with amazement. It reminded him of a palace in Saudi Arabia, well the one he had been in at least.

"I've been waiting," came the deep voice of someone at the end of the dark wooden table. The African American man bowed before turning to Peter and Olivia.

"They have arrived," the man said, "See here the saint," he aid, pointing to Olivia, "And the sinner," he said, grasping Peter's hand. Before he could pull it away the man squeezed it, causing Peter to cry out in pain and unfurl his fist. Scorch marks on the skin stood out in the light and Olivia looked at him with honest disbelief.

"Come closer," the voice called and the man tugged Peter closer. A bald man dressed in a white linen cloth was seated at the head of the table, Olive branches in remained of his hair. His eyes were sunken and deep, the blue color holding a lot of knowledge. Wise was practically written on his face. The man grasped Peter's and looked at the scorch marks.

"Yes, yes," the wise man said, "He is definitely the sinner. But this is not his circle. Do not fear sinner, nothing will burn you here."

"Excuse me," Olivia said, stepping forward. The man looked at her. "We are not who you think we are. My name is Special Agent Olivia Dunham and that there is Peter Bishop. We are from the Earth. You see a pair passed through here with a device that opened your world to ours. Something from your world is in ours and we need to get the controller they left here so we can get back and close the hole before more escape."

The wise man's blue eyes sparkled at her before he nodded.

"Yes of course," he said, "But please, sit, eat, you must be weary. It was a long travel to this level. I offered your friends the same hospitality but they refused. It was rather, unwise."

Peter gulped and nodded before sitting. Olivia looked at Peter in question before sliding into the seat next to him. The man slid down bread to them.

"My name is Virgil," he spoke, "And I have been waiting. You have questions."

"Yes," Olivia answered, "You know the others that came through-"

"Yes," Virgil answered her, "They were rude, unkind and greedy. They did not belong here."

"Wait," Peter said, dropping his slice of bread. Olivia glared at him, "You said greedy?"

"Yes."

"What level is greed on?"

Virgil shrugged. "That I do not know. I only know I am stuck here. You however are not. But I insist you stay for the night. You two are very important in the balance of the universes."

Olivia nodded as did Peter. Virgil gave a smile.

"Very well," he said, "Kingsley will show you to your rooms."

A tall black dog stalked from behind the man, two green eyes in its head and staring at them. Peter stared back he had never seen a dog like that before. The dog almost smiled at him. Wait, it did. Peter blinked.

"Go on," Virgil said, "He does not bite. Well not mortals anyway."

Olivia nodded and followed the dog out with Peter right behind her. Just as they turned the hall Olivia slowed down and matched the speed with Peter before reaching for his hand. The one scorched the worse.

"You could have told me," she said. Peter pulled back his hand.

"No," he answered, "I couldn't tell you."

"Why not?" Olivia demanded.

"Because," he hissed, gripping her wrist, "I don't belong here Olivia. At least, I don't want to end up here. I want to end up somewhere good. Virgil said this isn't my level. How much worse is it? Where do I belong Liv? I'm not a religious person but I don't want to be here. I don't want to be a sinner."

"And hiding that from me makes you somehow better?" she asked. With a tugged she ripped free her hand and stalked away, leaving a stunned Peter behind. She was right though, he lied to her, does that make him better? Or worse?

Oh how he did not want to end up here.


End file.
